


Of Monsters and Men

by LucisLibari



Series: Twilight London [2]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Anarch Character, Dialogue Heavy, Ex-Sabbat character, Gen, Hunting, In which two Neonates have to hunt for a Methuselah and take two very different approaches, Non-canon metaplot, Other, Ruminations on Humanity, Writing Exercise, no editing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucisLibari/pseuds/LucisLibari
Summary: “I just-” Percy sighs. “Was wondering if you were one of those vampires who...like it?”“Barking up the wrong tree, you found another miserable neonate.”“That makes two of us.”High Humanity Tremere Percy Lichtenberg is forced to go bring home some food for his chantry's Regent. He meets his fellow Tremere, ex-Sabbat Sylvain Artoire, while on the way back. While sent on a similar mission, they had two very different ways of going about it. They talk about it.
Series: Twilight London [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982036
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Of Monsters and Men

**Author's Note:**

> Hi welcome back to Flavio writes some bullshit between classes and updates of the vampirefucking fic! This time : a dialogue about the humanity mechanic!
> 
> In game terms, Percy's Humanity 7-8 and Sylvain's 3-4. I just like writing them talking. There's some references to some metaplot deviations but nothing too immersion-breaking. Enjoy!

The moon always served to be a mocking thing at this time of night. Peaking through the crowds, reflecting the crimson of the sweat pouring off of Percy’s brow as he tried to carry an unconscious man throughout the streets of London. It wasn’t an uncommon sight, most passerby probably thought he was dragging a friend home from a particularly bad night at the bar. Percy wouldn’t be so stressed if it was that.  
  
“Don’t wake up before I get to the chantry, I swear to god…” he swore under his breath, just focusing on the sound of his shoes on the sidewalk. “Stefan doesn’t like it when I bring panicking food…”  
  
The unfortunate victim snores, and Percy groans. 

“Listen, dude, I don’t fuckin’ like doing this either.”

Surprisingly, he gets a response.  
  
“Can’t handle the weight, pipsqueak?”

Percy jumps a little, before looking up to see a blonde prick staring at him with uncaring cold blue eyes. 

“Funny seeing you here, Sylvain,” Percy groans. He adjusts his glasses to get a better look at his unfortunate compatriot. He seems to have headphones in, a garbage bag over his shoulder, and…

…covered in blood. A little bit dripping from the mouth, but mostly on the arms and hands. Huh.

“Jesus, how much did your catch struggle? All this seems excessive for just a knock-out…” 

Sylvain knits his brow, glasses catching glare from the moonlight.

“What?”

There’s a moment of silence, before Percy’s amber eyes widen as he stumbles back.

“...Did you kill someone?!”

“I made sure they weren’t innocent, chill out."

“ _That’s the problem you see with that!?_ “

Percy blinked, mouth agape and looking between Sylvain’s unmoving expression and what could now be identified as a body bag.

“Edgar won’t eat it if it was innocent, so yea-”

“ _It?_ “

“They? I’m not going to misgender a body. Listen, do you want help or not.”

“I- there was so much happening in those words you just said,” Percy looks at his own...catch. “ _Sure._ “

Sylvain walks over , picks up Percy’s body, and flings it over his other shoulder.

“Gentle!” Percy squeaks. “I want them to _live!_ ”

“It’s inefficient but OK. Let's move.” 

“I-” Percy was going to say something along the lines of ‘ _I’m willing to put in a little elbow grease if it means I keep my moral compass facing north,’_ but he figured that not only would this fall on deaf ears, but he figured it would make him a hypocrite. So he opted with “OK”.

For a minute, there was silence. Only the sound of the two Tremere walking along an empty back street _,_ the occasional snores of the one living man between four bodies, and the trickling of water into storm drains. Percy keeps staring at the bag, knowing that it’s full of decomposition and what used to be a person. 

He wants to say something, but what in the hell would he even say?

“So, do you...do this all the time?” 

That, apparently. 

Sylvain snorts. “What, murder? No, only when it’s convenient. I’m not going around slitting throats if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“I- listen I don’t know! I just...you seem very...calm about the whole thing!” 

“This is my first year of unlife not in the Sabbat.”

“Right.”

“You’re acting as if you’ve never killed anyone.”

“I- I-” Percy gagged like he was being strangled. Can’t lie, even about a kill count.

“I’ve never premeditated it!”

“I didn’t premeditate this,” Sylvain shrugs. “Just met a guy, didn’t knock out easily, I had put in too much effort, already made a knife and everything, so I did the logical thing.”

More silence.

“How many people have you killed.”

“16.”

“What the fuck.”

“2 in Maine, 5 in Jersey, 6 in DC, and 3 here.”

Percy blinks.

“Uh-huh.”

“Any other questions or can we finish walking in peace,” Sylvain’s voice is sharp against the tongue, and Percy winces a bit. 

“I mean...did you like it more?”  
  
Sylvain barks out a laugh.

“In the Sabbat? Oh no, it was like it was a 24/7 mental breakdown! Praise Caine! Drink this, kill that, hold this pound of flesh for me, it's like I never had a clear-headed moment. It was bloody awful.” 

“You don’t seem to like it here much, either. And honestly you still kinda act like one...”

“You are correct!” Sylvain’s tone is almost chipper. “Old habits die hard.”

Percy crinkles his nose, picking up the pace a bit to walk beside Sylvain instead of behind him. “Have you even...tried to reclaim your humanity, ever since coming here?”

“No,” Sylvain shakes his head.

“I suppose that was a stupid question.”

“Ah, you’re learning,” he hums. Percy rubs his temples.

“I just...I don’t get it, you’re in a place where you can start becoming a better person, and you just...don’t? Are you complacent being like this? What would you rather be-”

“Bloody _fuck_ Percy get off your high horse - I’d rather be a god-damn magi like I was before all of this _mess_ but I don’t _get_ that option so I suppose the soulless, heartless, cruel monster of bureaucracy and murder is _fine._ ”

“Oh.”

Sylvain groans in annoyance. 

“Just, listen. I’m real happy for you that you can rise every night and deal with all your problems in a nice-and-tidy way like the good little American Anarch that you are but I’m trying to be _efficient_ so our Grand Lord God-King Pontifex Stefan Anjou finds me enough of an appeasing court jester to let me exist another night without drinking pyramid scheme blood.” 

Percy looks at the ground, watching as the water ripples out from underneath his shoes. 

“What?” Sylvain’s voice bites again. “You got your answer. Have I finally shut you up?”

“I just-” Percy sighs. “Was wondering if you were one of those vampires who...like it?”

“Barking up the wrong tree, you found another miserable neonate.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Of course it does,” Sylvain’s eye roll can only be sort of seen behind his glasses. “The only people who like being a vampire are those who can’t remember being human. Like Stefan and that old crusty graveyard Torrie we found. Sabbat, Camarilla, Anarch, whatever, vampirism is a curse until you can’t remember the blessing of being human. Then it’s just life.”

Percy bit his lip. 

“Then...why...this?” Percy gestures once again to the body bag.

“Just because I’ve accepted I’m a monster doesn’t mean I forgot what it was like to be human,” Sylvain adjusts the two men on his shoulders. “I was a magi, Percy, there’s no way I can forget that. I focus on the future and the immediate because I can’t stand to dwell on the past.”

“I suppose you miss sphere magic, then?”

“Stupid question.”

“OK.”

Percy looks up to the sky, there’s that moon again. Soft white light filters through thin clouds to become a cool grey when it hits the ground. It makes the layer of after rain on the ground glisten and glitter, and makes light reflect on the crimson droplets running down Sylvain’s cheek. 

“I- oh god, Sylvain, I’m sorry-”

“Fuck off Percy, don’t look, keep walking.” 

He does as he’s told, but not before going to take one of the bodies off of Sylvain’s shoulders.  
  
“ _I said walk, Lichtenberg,”_ in between words Percy can see the snarl of fangs in Sylvain’s mouth, and that’s enough of a cue for him to scuttle. 

The rest of the walk to the chantry is silent. Percy didn’t even realize they had made it until he felt the weight of an unconscious man fall on his back.

“Take your prize,” Sylvain said with a sardonic but exhausted smile as Percy grunted to try and adjust.

“Are- you OK?” Percy said as he huffed, adjusting back to a comfortable carrying position. 

“Yeah, just had a moment,” Sylvain ruffled his own hair a little bit, attempting to get some caked in blood out of the golden strands. “Learn anything useful tonight?”

“Don’t push your buttons?” Percy grimaced a bit, preparing for verbal impact.

“You are capable of learning! Wow!” Sylvain tried to pass off as joking, but Percy could still see the stains of pink dusting his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” Percy laughed nervously. “I’m amazed too. Listen, I’m...I’m sorry for pushing you, I should’ve known better to ask about all that.”

“I’m not actually mad Percy, just got a little emotional,” Sylvain shrugs. “Just...chew on what I said for a bit. Undead reality check. You can’t keep acting like that unless you want to get turned into Methuselah food.”

“Undead reality check…” Percy nods. “Uh, thank you. For the help carrying this guy and answering my dumb questions.”

“Stop stuttering and being all polite you look stupid,” Sylvain gives Percy a shove. “Let’s go present this crap to the king and get the rest of our nights actually started.”

“Uh- fuck, OK,” Percy lets out another grunt as he staggers. “Let’s get this over with…”

The moon keeps shining down, parted through the clouds. It still feels mocking , reflecting a sun Percy can’t see anymore. 

_‘Perhaps that’s it,’_ the thought crosses his mind. _‘A reminder that I’m no longer human.”_

Sylvain makes way through the chantry doors, and for a second, Percy stops to watch.

_‘One day I’ll learn what you do all of this for. And then I’ll know a little more about the both of us.’_


End file.
